


A Change in Direction

by Admin Cock (Admin_Cock)



Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Acting, Cigars, F/M, Fluff, Jacket lending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 22:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18486145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Admin_Cock/pseuds/Admin%20Cock
Summary: Stranded in a town full of birds where you’re the only human, it doesn’t seem like you’ve got much a chance at things going well for you. A local movie studio, however, changes your life for the better.





	A Change in Direction

You still had now idea how you’d ended up here, though you could definitely recall when you woke for the first time and found the worried faces of numerous birds leaning over you. Most appeared to be owls, but one was a rather eccentric looking penguin with large sunglasses and an afro. He was pressing either a cold wing or a damp rag to your forehead when your eyes fluttered open, and once he noticed you were awake he had spoken in a boisterous tone.

“Darling!~ Are you alright? You took quite the stumble there!”

That made you pass out again.

The next time you woke you were in a bedroom, and for just a moment you were sure you were home and it had all been some weird dream. But then you noticed the room wasn’t your own and as you threw your legs off the side of the bed some arguing voices outside began to come closer. The only door to the windowless room was shoved open and the afro-sporting penguin from earlier walked in with a new figure by his side. Honestly, you had no idea what sort of bird the fluffy figure was, or if it was even a bird at all. Then, after a moment of the three of you looking at once another, the yellow one turned to the penguin and shouted in a clearly Scottish accent.

“Ye buffoon! Yer didnae tell me it was a lass faintin’ in the reception!”

Hard to believe that was the first ever interaction you had with your new boss, or rather, bosses.

Yes, once you found there was no returning to where you’d originally come from – not that you could remember it anyway – it was decided you’d have to stay and make a life in a town full of birds. You spent the first few weeks doing odd jobs around the town, periodically running into both the birds from the studio you now knew as DJ Grooves and the Conductor. Grooves was certainly the more open and friendly of the pair, not the say the Conductor wasn’t kind to you, it was just far more likely for the platform wearing penguin to find his way to your basic apartment, strike you up on a conversation of how your week was going and offer any assistance he could. That fact alone is why you were so surprised when on one evening you found his yellow partner at your door, instead, with the offer of an intern position at the studio.

Considering all you’d been doing for the past week was throwing your back out by wiping down cafe tables, you eagerly accepted the job. At least if you threw your back on a movie set it would be a more interesting story.

The following Tuesday you found yourself bustling about Dead Bird Studio, clipboard in hand and assisting DJ Grooves with production of his newest film. You’d come to learn the specific film tastes for each of the filmmakers over the short time you had been in town, and this newest genre was quite a bold step for Grooves to try. He was much more of a comedy and musical sort of bird, while his partner was the one better known for his action and murder mysteries. Though, considering you were just an intern, you really felt you had no place to speak on the director’s film choices.

A few days into the filming process, you had unfortunately been left alone in the studio for an evening, reviewing what shoddy film work they’d captured to that point and writing down every timestamp where there was some sort of error. Yawning and setting aside your now drained third cup of coffee, you glanced over your clipboard. You were on your third round of the film out of the recommended five, and things weren’t looking great so far.

18 scenes that needed scrapped.  
32 boom mic shots.  
74 actors out of place.  
192 unintelligible and/or completely butchered lines.

You were starting to see why the Conductor was the more revered director in town. And speaking of the devil…

“I thought everyone had buggered off for the night, ye still burning the midnight oil, lass?”

Turning to look behind you, and unintentionally drawing a harsh crack from your back, you faced the Conductor from where he peeked in through the doorway. He must’ve taken his jacket off earlier in the day because it appeared he’d been in the process of putting it back on before spotting you on his way out, with the buttons still undone and his crisp white shirt and silver accented vest catching the light from the many screens in the room.

You nodded at his question and glanced over your clipboard once more, still new enough an intern to not want to risk accidentally offending either the filmmakers and lose the only good thing you had going for your life right now.

“Yes, Mr. Conductor. Mr. Grooves put me on film review before I leave for the night.” Glancing at a clock on the far wall, you winced internally at the time. _Was it really that late?_ “I thought a few more crew members were still here but I suppose it is far too late to expect that.”

The man’s mouth seemed to purse as he took a small step into the room, arms folding over his chest and head tilting to look at the screens you had been watching. After a moment, he scoffed and shook his head a bit.

“Cannae believe DJ peck neck would leave an intern on film review. At least he could have given yer a second set of eyes!”

It was clear he saw how tired you were but you quickly blinked a few times and straightened your posture, hoping to look a little more awake.

“I’m quite alright by myself! I mean, I know everyone is so busy and I’m only an intern, I can take some of the load off everyone else’s backs.”

It was true. You worked your ass off through the day and throughout the filming process, but even then you were nowhere near as busy as the actual film workers. They couldn’t be expected to overwork themselves, otherwise filming would be interrupted. You’d had intern jobs before, granted none in the movie-making industry, but each time your job mostly consisted of making the load easier of the more important people. Whether you had been brainwashed into believing this was how being an intern was supposed to go or not, the Conductor seemed to disagree.

“Yer done enough for today. I can see those circles under ye eyes, and considerin’ ye certainly are no owl I think it’s time yer head in for the day.”

“But, sir, what about– ”

“Aye, don’t ye worry about ol’ Grooves. He isnae yer only boss, and if he has a word to say about it next time he sees ye just send him me way! Come along then, lassie! I can walk ye to yer apartment.”

Blinking slowly, you watched the bird man walk back out into the studio, hearing the distinct sound of doors being locked up and lights being shut off as you turned back to the wall of screens before you, clipboard still in hand. Could you afford to leave your work early? Would the Conductor really stick up for you if DJ Grooves had something harsh to say in the morning?

“Are ye comin’ lass?”

You glanced down to your clipboard, looking over the long list of timestamps and mistakes, listening to the hum of the screens for a few seconds before calling back.

“Coming, sir!”

* * *

 

The town had gone to sleep for the night, with only the pounding music from the club district giving any signs of life for several blocks. It had clearly rained recently as the cobblestones were still listening with puddles and a cool, crisp air brought goosebumps to your arms. Twas the downside of being a featherless human, you supposed. With no feathers to keep you warm and a very limited wardrobe you were used to walking through the cold to get back home some days. Though you certainly weren’t used to having company.

Beside you, the Conductor has his hands shoved in his pockets, rustling for a moment before pulling out what appeared to be a matchbox and a partly smoked cigar. You couldn’t help but watch in a mix of curiosity and confusion as he held the cigar between those pointed teeth and struck a match to life, the small flame bringing warm shades to his bright feathers as he lit up his preferred smoke. Had he always smoked cigars? You hadn’t spent much time working for him so perhaps he only did it in privacy, which would make sense as to why the was the first time you were seeing him do it.

As you watched the bird shove a hand back in his pocket and enjoy his smoke, what you didn’t realize was that he was watching you as well, and he spoke to you in an almost gentle tone as he held his cigar between his fingers and let the smoke roll from his mouth.

“Yer shiverin’, giriie. Ye that cold?”

Feeling a rush of warmth come to your face at your boss calling you out, you quickly looked back to the ground in front of your feet, doing your best to keep your shivering at bay with your arms folded over your chest.

“I-I’m fine, I swear! My apartment isn’t that far and it’s not _that_ cold out so I’ll survive.”

Though you couldn’t see the way the Conductor's face scrunched up in a mix of thought and annoyance, you could almost feel it from the way he hummed in his throat. He didn’t say anything, however, and you expected him to leave it at that. What you weren’t expecting was for a warm jacket to be draped over your shoulders a moment later, and you _definitely_ weren’t expecting to look over and find you boss with slightly ruffled feathers.

Reaching up to touch the collar of the warm jacket, your lips parted to retort but the owner was quick to beat you to it.

“That outta keep ye warm ‘til we get there, aye? Yer donae have the insulation like the rest of us, and if Grooves found out I walked ye home and let ye catch cold I’d nae hear the end of it!”

Another wave of heat found your face as you stared in soft wonderment at your boss. Was he truly such a gentleman, or was he merely keeping the studio's most active intern from getting ill? Those questions tumbled back and forth in your mind for a few moments until you noticed something you hadn’t before.

Now that his jacket was off you were given a view of the attire usually hidden beneath, but what intrigued you more than his fashion sense was his feathers… and just how fluffed they’d become. The Conductor was rather fluffy bird… thing… to begin with, but now, with his extra layer of warmth gone, it seemed he’d begun to fluff up slightly to keep himself warm. His ears and the smaller tufts on either side of his face were a little bigger, and there was some noticeable plumage peeking out from the one undone button on the collar his shirt. You knew birds ruffled their feathers for warmth, but in a town surrounded by the creatures, not once did it strike you that they would do such a thing.

“Thank you, sir. It’s very kind of you.”

The bird next to you let out a bit of a laugh before giving you an amused tone.

“Yer donae have to call me Mister and Sir all the time, lassie! Aye, I may be yer boss but I am nae a man for all them titles. Just call me Conductor, no need for all the professional mumbo jumbo.”

His bluntness took you by surprise. Never had you worked for a boss quite like the Conductor before, and you still weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed you’d have a little more time to think about it in the privacy of your own home though, as the bird pointed up towards an apartment complex, cigar between his talons.

“This is ye building, right? I’ll walk ye to the door, make sure ye get there nice and safe.”

Nodding silently, you keyed the pair of you into the apartment building, walking through the flickering lounge light and into the elevator before pressing the button for the fourth floor. Thankfully it seemed like the elevator was in working order today, with not even a flicker of the lights on your way up. Upon exiting, your small one room apartment was the first to the right, so upon stepping out and before reaching to unlock your door, you began to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, but before you could get it off entirely the conductor was holding his hand up and shaking his head gently.

“But s- Conductor, won’t you need this?”

“Nah, lass, ye can hold on to it a while longer. I hear there’s supposed to be a nip in the air tomorrow morning and we can’t have yer gettin’ cold on the walk to the studio, aye? I’ve got more than one suit, and I’m nae expectin’ ye to keep it forever.”

With his cigar still clenched between his teeth, the yellow bird gave you a smile and nodded his head a bit before walking back to the elevator, leaving you standing in front of your door with his jacket and a strange feeling in your chest.

* * *

 

It was quite the feat on your part to manage sneaking into the studio the following morning without anyone noticing the fact that you were wearing you boss’ jacket. You were tempted to immediately go to his office and leave it there, but you decided that would look a bit suspicious and kept it neatly folded inside your messenger bag until a better time arose. Until then, you continued to rush about and work until you dropped.

Luckily, you weren’t left with another late job that day, and as you were packing up you realized you still had the Conductor’s jacket among your things. Keeping the folded article pressed to your chest, you made sure no one was out in the halls before making your way to the opposite end of the studio where the man’s office was. As you got deeper into his area of the studio, you could hear the hustle and bustle of some owls doing late night work, but with a few sneaky maneuvers on your part you managed to slip past undetected and made it to your boss’ office.

“Mr. Conductor? It’s me, may I come in?” You called inside with a gentle knock. There was a low grumble you took as permission, but you still opened the door slowly as if bracing for the worst.

Behind the door was an office you weren’t expecting. A desk made of some dark wood and stained a lovely hue of red sat in the center of the room, old movie posters of the director’s previous accomplishments hung in frames along the walls, a few lamps gave a warm light to the space and a few filing cabinets were placed about and filled with what you imagined to be movie scripts. At the desk, head in one hand and a glass of some alcohol in the other, was the Conductor himself. With the absence of his normal jacket he’d donned a different suit today, one that was a deep mahogany with a dark undershirt and tie. His current jacket was tossed aside and draped sadly on a corner of the expansive desk among the piles of crumpled papers. It was clear the man had been struggling with some sort of creative block and you couldn’t help but purse your lips. Looking back into the studio behind you, a moment passed before you closed the door behind you once again, placing aside your messenger bag and his folded jacket to take a seat in the closest free chair.

Once you sat down it seemed the bird finally noticed you and his head lifted from staring at the paper in front of him. A sort of crooked grin and weak chuckle was given to you as he forced himself to straighten up enough to slump back into his chair instead of hunch over the desk.

“Aye, lass, there ye are. I was – _hic_ – I was wonderin’ if I’d see per pretty mug today. How are… how are ye? Is that DJ peck neck treatin’ yer well on set?”

Ignoring the strange airy feeling in your chest after being called pretty, you scooted closer to the desk in front of you and spoke softly to the drunken man.

“I’m treated fairly, he hasn’t yelled too harshly at me, yet. Thank you for averting what I’m sure would have been a nasty shouting session for leaving work early last night.”

“it was nothin’ lassie! I cannae let that peck neck pick on ye just because yer an intern. Intern yer may be, but ye do a smashin’ good job! Aye… with such a committed worker like ye I bet ol’ peck neck’s movie is going to win the annual bird movie awards this year.”

Looking away a bit, you fidgeted with a nearby pen on the edge of the desk.

“Actually… Mr. Grooves doesn’t take my advice on how his film could be improved. I’ve caught every mistake in the recording and acting and he won’t correct them. I’m not sure if he just refuses to listen to an intern or only cares about the dumb stardom stuff.”

Your confession seemed to catch the attention of the more serious director, leaning forward in his chair and setting aside in mostly empty whiskey glass now.

“That so, eh? Well I’ve seen yer workin’ on those shoddy recordings of his, and if he refuses to accept your criticism and advice then he’s just some – _hic_ – some peck neck gone crazy on bird seed! I would give anything to have an intern like you on my crew right about now. Aye, poor Wesley cannae get a fresh film idea and the owls are no help.”

So that’s why he was moping around with a drink. He had lost his film-making groove and needed some inspiration. Or maybe… he needed an outside opinion.

“Well,”you started slowly, catching the little lift of his ear tufts as you got his attention, “considering how Mr. Grooves won’t take my advice, perhaps I could offer it to you and your crew, instead.”

You could see how the Conductor’s ear tufts wiggled a bit, whether it was out of thought or excitement you weren’t sure, but his mouth pursed for a moment and he tapped his talons on the desk a few time before turned to face you once more.

“If DJ peck neck cannae appreciate what ye bring to the table, then I certainly can. Startin’ tomorrow morning yer on my crew, and you willnae be catchin’ me ignorin’ that vauble input of yours.”

* * *

 

 “No, no no! It’s all wrong! Are any of ye peck necks actually actors?!”

Several weeks had passed since you began work with the Conductor on his movie. It had taken both of you long enough to come up with a script, something rather new for his usual tastes but still in the ballpark, and you’d managed to fill almost every role with good actors. Now there was only one slot left, the most important one, and the one that was giving you the most trouble.

You were still searching for someone to fill the role of the main female lead and love interest.

When the drunken bird had told you in his private moment of weakness that he would never ignore your advice and criticism, he truly meant it, and since then you’d been something akin to his personal assistant. Sometimes he swore you knew more about film-making than he did with the quality tips you gave. You had even been the one to suggest the love interest in the story as a fresh new element to his usual tales, and you had been a great deal of help in helping him along the way. With this in mind, he pressed his hands over his face a mumbled to his side where you stood, clipboard in hand.

“Lassie, could ye please show these buffoons what we’re looking for in this character? It seems not a single owl can perform without havin’ their hands held.”

Nodding firmly, you placed aside the items you held and snatched up a spare script, making your way onto the auditioning stage and into the spotlight. You had written almost every line for this character so you barely had to glance at the printed words as you cleared your throat and began to act. You were nowhere near the professional level of acting, but you still knew how to put on a show.

Your voice was strong, your movement fluid, and every bird on set seemed impressed by the talent of a simple intern as you took upon the role of Lady Cynthia.

“I wanted to tell you that wherever I am, whatever happens, I’ll always think of you, and the time we spent together, as my happiest time. I’d do it all over again, if I had the choice. No regrets.”

Pulling his hands away from his face, the Conductor couldn’t prevent his jaw from dropping as he raised his head and watched you perform. Was it just the spotlight giving you that radiant glow or was he just imagining things? The passion and palatable emotion in every word you breathed made his feathers ruffle. Leaning forward in his seat, he stared on in pure awe as you continued the brief scene.

“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

As you finished, the Conductor felt his heart soar, barely hearing the clap of every other bird on the set. You, meanwhile, smiled shyly and felt a rush of heat flood your face, taking a small bow before beginning to walk off the stage. You’d made it halfway across and were out of the bright limelight when the director barked out once more.

“Alright! That’s a wrap for today! We’ve got our choice for Lady Cynthia!”

You stopped in place on stage, giving your boss an odd look and arching a brow before he focused his attention on you, a wide grin on his face and his ear tufts wiggling a bit out of glee.

“Lassie, we’re gonna make ye a star! Yer the only one who can so flawlessly capture Miss Cynthia’s character!”

Dropping the script you held to the ground, the papers scattered about your feet and your entire face went red as you stammered to your boss.

“M-me?!”

* * *

 

By now you were two weeks into filming and the Conductor was as pleased as punch at how progress was going. With the sudden decision to make you, a human woman the role of Lady Cynthia you had spent a number of days in the costume department, being poked and prodded for every outfit you;d be required to wear at some point in the film.

Most of your scenes so far hadn’t been major, but today was your first real chance to shine. Today you were due to film the first romantic moment between Lady Cynthia and the main protagonist, and truthfully, you were nervous. You’d been spending the last hour or so pacing back and forth in the caboose of the Owl Express, the Conductor’s pride and joy and where most of the day’s scenes would be taking place. It was still at the moment, with the crew preparing for filming and the actors prepping, but you were too nervous to even think of glancing over your lines right now.

Your personal script sat atop a crate inside the car, and you currently leaning against the railing in the back. The sun was just beginning to set, painting the scene for the romance shot, and you couldn’t help but give a heavy sigh and take off the large hat you were to wear, allowing the gentle breeze to caress your face.

From behind you, someone cleared you throat, and as you turned you were met with the director, his jacket left behind somewhere and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. Considering you were planning to film in the desert, you could only image how hot he was under those feathers, you were ready to melt in the over-the-top dress you were practically sewn into. Something about the Conductor’s body language made it seem like he was also nervous, and out of reflex you asked, “Is something on your mind, Conductor?”

With a soft hum, the bird shook his head, reaching up to scratch at the feathers on the back of his neck.

“Nae donae worry about me, lass, I’m perfectly fine. Yer look like the one who’s nervous, though.”

Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair, looking out over the desert where the crew was working to load all the equipment onto the train.

“I just… I’ve never acted before, especially not in a high budget movie as the main love interest. I won’t lie, I’m nervous about today’s scene. What if I mess it up? What if I’m not emotionally convincing? I’ve got so many worries and I don’t want to risk looking at the script and making my nerves worse.”

The pair of you were silent for a few moments until you heard the rustling of paper and turned your attention back to your boss. The Conductor had picked up your copy of the script and flipped through until he stopped about two thirds of the way in, where you could only assume the aforementioned romance scene was. You could see him scanning over the scene before he looked up to you, keeping the script in one hand and taking a step forward. You had no chance to question what he was doing before he took your hand in his, pressing it to his chest, directly over his heart, and you immediately knew just as he began to speak.

“Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. You deserve the world, and I know I can’t give that to ye. So I’ll give ye the next best thing: _my_ world.”

Your chest swelled and you felt yourself get a little weak in the knees as the Conductor put on his best acting and took the place of the main protagonist and Lady Cynthia’s love interest, fully intending to act this scene out with you to calm your worries. So, taking a small breath, you recalled your own lines and replied easily to him.

“I have no need for such grand gestures, darling. Your hand holding mine is enough, this is how the galaxies collide. All I desire is to be near you, to gaze upon your face and know that my heart undeniably belongs to you.”

The Conductor gave a dreamy sigh and lifted your hand from his chest to the side of his face, where you cupped his cheek in your hand and felt your heart flutter. Those feathers were so soft, and as you stroked your thumb over the warmth of his face you watched as he grew fluffier than usual. Was he feeling unwell? There was no way your acting was drawing such a reaction out of him.

“I crossed a thousand leagues of sand and sky to come to ye, and lost the best part of me along the way. Donae tell me to leave.”

“Never, my love. Never leave.”

Abruptly standing, the Conductor swept you up in his arms, dipping you low as the protagonist was meant to do in the scene and you knew where this was headed.

“Yer are so amazingly…wonderfully…beautifully…awesomely…most definitely the most precious of all precious things.”

There must’ve been stars in your eyes as you draped your arms around the bird’s neck, not daring to pull yourself closer and break the scene as you watched him slowly begin to lean in. There was to be a kiss after he spoke that line, there was no way he was actually going to kiss you. He was a dedicated actor, you had watched the films he’d stared in himself, but if he was actually going to do this during an impromptu practice run then it was a whole other level of commitment.

But as you watched him draw close, part of you realized you wanted this.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you were fully prepared to kiss your boss before you heard some frustrated voices nearby, and both of you whipped your heads over to the source. A small crowd of owls had gathered with a filming camera and they had apparently been filming your little interaction with the director, which sent a wave of heat through your face and to the very tips of your ears. The Conductor quickly pulled you back to your feet, catching yourself on the railing so you wouldn’t collapse out of embarrassment as the furious fluff ball poofed up even more out of embarrassment and snapped at his crew.

“ **What the peck do ye peck necks think yer doing?! Get ye tails in gear and load those camera onto me Owl Express and that film better be destroyed in the next minute!** ”

Watching the director storm off, you fanned yourself with your large costume hat, deciding that the impromptu practice had indeed helped. If you just pictured the owl plating the main character as the Conductor, you may just be able to give a flawless performance. And maybe, if you had the confidence, you’d ask him after filming today if he could help you practice the true romance scene at the end of the movie. Your acting was probably good enough to make yourself seem nervous again. But then again, after what the Conductor just tried to pull, perhaps you didn’t need to act.


End file.
